Sunday, August 23, 2015

Whistling and Singing

My father used to announce his arrival at a friend's house by whistling as he ignored the front door and walked down the side of the house to knock or call out at the back door. His whistling was usually already heard and the friends were at the back door to welcome him.

Mother recently told me that when he was stressed, he would whistle or sing. I really liked him singing but I hated him whistling early in the morning and so much wanted to tell him to shut up. But that would not do at all. I would not speak to my father like that. My favourite song of his was If I Were a Rich Man. His de da de da, la was superb.

Two days ago R was singing around the apartment. It was driving me crazy. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I did not as while I did not work it our at time, I have subsequently. Two days later I have realised why R was singing. It was for the exact same reason my father did, stress from doing the right thing for the ill Brother Friend and everything else. R has been remarkably composed, only snapping once at me with an anti Muslim rant and pro Australia Christian history rant.

Bah, religion. If God is good, why am I sitting here, fat and comfortable while children starve to death or worse.

Can you tell my way of destressing is to write and not sing?

And then there is the heating. Ill Brother Friend is cold and so the heating has being turned up by him to an intolerable level. I worry about the bill, like we can't afford to pay it, wearing out the air con unit and at times I take refuge in my bedroom and close the door while my room cools down. Sister complains we overheat our place and switches off the air con if we are out. She should be here now!

Interestingly, Elisabeth recently wrote about the battle of thermostats when she had a visitor.

Snoskred, it is worse when the singer only knows one or two lines and they are just repeated. We don't really rug up. It is normally comfortable here in just a long sleeve shirt but not toasty warm. Heating an apartment is not like heating a house. It never really gets that cold, with a few days this year where the inside temperature first thing in the morning was 15.5

When I'm on a hike I sing, when I get really worn out and don't think I'll ever get back. In fact, I memorized songs so that I would know them, in times like that. Also sometimes out on the raft, when I get worn out, or a little stressed from high waves, I sing. Out on the raft, it's songs like Margaritaville or A Pirate Looks at Forty, Jimmy Buffet ocean songs usually.

My singing is awful and I can't whistle so that make me nice to live with, as I never do it.I agree with you about religion, the world is not balanced and a fair god would not allow that.Merle................... .

I'm rarely stressed, but it's been known to happen and I have a couple of calming methods, depending on what the stress factor was. Mostly, I'll read and sleep. In the past I would play my ipod really loud, the rock playlist, and as I calmed down, the music would get quieter. I had the songs balanced that way.

My public diary, not my private one. I live in a highrise apartment building in inner Melbourne. My interests are varied but top of the list are old buildings, history and public transport. You will find plenty of personal experiences to read in my blog too. Just be aware I am not an historian, amateur or otherwise. While I make some effort to be accurate, I don't do proper methodical research so I advise you check all details on your own behalf should you wish to quote me. Your comments are very welcome, but try to be nice to my fragile yet overblown ego. I enjoy receiving email. You can find my eddress in my complete profile.